


All Hail the Turkey God

by sentimental_boy



Series: Matt Murdock imagines [63]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8602861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentimental_boy/pseuds/sentimental_boy
Summary: You, Foggy, Matt, and Karen have thanksgiving dinner.





	

Foggy’s never missed a Nelson thanksgiving. Besides for his not so politically correct uncle who annually (well, more than annually) gets drunk and goes off on a tangent, why would he? Since that first year as roommates, he’s taken Matt with him.

But this year is different. Matt has you, and Karen has nowhere to go, so you’re starting your own thanksgiving tradition. Building your own family. A family that Foggy is also a part of. Daredevil fiasco and fancy new job at H,C,B,&N be damned. So, for the first time in all 30 of his years on this planet, he finds himself considering foregoing the Nelson clan feast. Even considering the Hoge-posh of meals that each of you can cook, it's worth it for the company.

-0-

“So Foggy, are you coming to join in our feast to honor the turkey god?” You ask.

“Honor it by slaughtering it’s kind?” Foggy rolls with it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to buy it pre-slaughtered- waste not and all that- and try not to burn it.”

“Well, I might have to come just to save you from invoking the wrath of the great turkey god. Between the three of you and your- frankly appalling- cooking skills, I’m your only hope. Even if it does invoke the wrath of the Nelson clan. Which you do not want to see. We may be all mild exasperation, wrapped in a layer of bad jokes, and longsuffering-”

“How godly of you.” Matt chimes in.

“You, don’t get to talk about godly traits and their faulty execution Murdock.” Foggy fires back. “As I was saying, we may seem harmless, but once driven, we can be the nastiest sons of bitches you’ve ever seen. Or heard. I will, however, take one for the team, if it means I’ll get to spend the time with you. If anything will make them understand, it will be in the name of properly cooked meats.”

“And the turkey god.” You add.

Karen giggles at the banter. It’s what makes her feel like she’s part of a family again, and she can’t get enough of it. “Why don’t we do it the day after thanksgiving? Foggy can have his family dinner, Y/n and I can get holiday pay, and the turkey will be cheaper.” She proposes with a shrug.

“That could work.” Foggy nods. “But don’t you dare think that you guys aren’t my family.”

“Of course you are. After all, the turkey god only accepts sacrifices when the whole family is present.”

“You guys do know the thanksgiving tradition has nothing to do with gods, right?” Matt points out.

“What? The pilgrims were Christian. I think.” Foggy counters.

“They actually left the Church of England to practice their own religions.”

“How do you even remember second-grade history, Matt?” Foggy asks.

Matt shrugs. “Catholic school.”

-0-

Karen remembers thanksgiving with her family fondly. There’s nothing quite like a southern home cooked meal, and there’s certainly nothing like a southern home cooked meal for a holiday that centers around food. Sure, a lot of it was deep fried, but that was their tradition. And it was her whole family sitting together at the table, even if they drove her up the wall. Which they did. Often. She would give anything to be with those idiots again. But that’s not an option anymore. As much as she loved- loves her family, she loves her new little family almost as much. It’s a feeling she’s never experienced, being chosen, accepted- applauded, even- for who she is. It’s different for her too, choosing the people in her life, and building her own little family. It's not bad though. Far from it; she wouldn't trade her new life for anything.

-0-

“So, Karen, what are your thanksgiving traditions?” You ask.

“Um, I don’t think they’re much different from anyone else’s.”

“Well, you’re the only one of us who- presumably- had a normal childhood, so it’s probably different from ours.”

“Wha- I will have you know that the Nelsons are an extremely normal family. I just turned out this quirky as an act of rebellion.” Foggy informs you.

“Okay, other than Foggy. But we already know about his family traditions.”

She nods. “Okay, so, it was always just us- my parents and my brother and me. Sometimes a friend would come over, but never any extended family. But since-” She stops herself.

You’re used to that, though. She catches herself sometimes, right before she says something revealing about her past. The three of you have silently agreed not to ask after it. She’ll share when she’s ready.

“Since I left,” she corrects. “I’ve traveled a lot. Spent some time in Mexico. Which, as you know, they don’t have thanksgiving there. Anyway, it’s been awhile since I actually celebrated it. When I was a kid, though, my parents would say this prayer, thanking god for various things. It was always the same one, but different from any other day. Anyway, I have no desire to carry that one on.”

“Alright, well that’s why it’s nice to do this with just the four of us for the first time. We can start our own traditions, and leave behind others.” You say.

“Ooh Karen, you should bring your grandma’s dish!” Foggy exclaims. “You know, the one you served Matt and me when you came on board at Nelson and Murdock.”

She smiles. “Okay, you got it.”

-0-

Matt couldn’t be happier. After pushing everyone he loves away- for the second time- you’re all back in his life.

Back when his dad was alive, every year, Jack Murdock would scrape together enough for a decent meal. Matt learned quickly what that thin-lipped smile meant when he would talk about the feast other kids were about to enjoy. Jack would just rustle his hair, and tell him to go study, with pained eyes. Matt learned not to talk about what other kids had.

Then his dad died and he realized that he would give anything to have his life with him back. Every holiday was a reminder of that. The first st. patties day without his dad; the first Halloween without his dad; the first Thanksgiving without his dad. The nuns at St. Agnes put up a valiant effort to get those children a decent thanksgiving meal, but feeding and clothing so many children already stretched their budget thin. Still, he remembers sister Maggie would find him after dinner every thanksgiving and give him an extra helping of dessert. To this day he wonders why him, or if it was something they did for all the kids to make them feel special. But he figures, they were kids, someone would’ve bragged about it, and it would’ve spread to all the rest. Sister Maggie always did take a special interest in him, though.

Foggy completely changed the holiday for him. The first year they roomed together at Columbia, he dragged Matt- despite his many protests- to his family’s thanksgiving feast. It was sweet, and some of the best food he had ever tasted, but he felt so out of place. Like he was in on a moment he shouldn’t be. Of course, it had more to do with his past experiences, being an outcast for most of his life, than how they treated him. After all, he's still learning how to handle the good in his life.

-0-

The day after thanksgiving, Matt’s apartment is alight with laughter, and the smells of all sorts of food. Karen brought her dish all made up, so she’s trying to keep it warm while Foggy’s self-proclaimed masterpiece finishes cooking. You’re working on your not so secret mashed potato recipe from your childhood. Still, everyone says they can’t get them to taste the same as when you make them. Maybe they’re trying to let you hold onto the one thing you can cook. You’ve moved from Matt’s crowded kitchen to the dining table to mash the potatoes. Matt’s moving effortlessly around Foggy and Karen- well as effortlessly as possible with three people in his tiny kitchen- as he gathers the ingredients to make his grandmother’s apple cake with custard sauce. When he joins you at the dining table and starts cracking eggs and pouring liquids into bowls, you realize that mashing potatoes on the same table is not going to end well.

Matt hears you stop mashing and tilts his head up. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

“No. You’re fine, I just figure, if you’re going to be working with liquids, I can work out my frustration somewhere else. Wouldn’t want raw egg going everywhere.”

“Oh, sorry, I can move.” He goes to stand, but you stop him.

“Sit down Murdock. I’ll just set it on a chair, it’ll be fine.”

“Y/n, are you ordering me around in my own home?” He asks with mock offense.

“You bet your ass I am. Now finish making your dessert.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hey, Frank can get away with the ma’ams. You, good sir, cannot.” You shake the potato masher at him.

He holds his hands up in surrender before going back to mixing. “Noted.”

-0-

Once you all sit in Matt’s living room (because tables are for upper-class citizens, which none of you are) you all sit in silence for a minute before you start eating. Everyone is used to a prayer, a rant that insults every minority at once, or at least a toast. Of course, it’s Foggy who fills the silence.

“So, I love my family- my blood relations that is. That sounds creepy, but you get my point. Biological family. Anyway, yesterday was great, and once again, a bunch of Nelson’s together cooking resulted in the best meal of my life.”

“You say that every year.” Matt points out.

“I do. And that is because somehow, we manage to outdo ourselves every year. It’s also not the point.”

“It isn’t?” Karen asks, trying to keep her laughter from spilling out.

“No, my fair lady, it is not. As I’ve been trying to say, if people would stop interrupting-”

“I think you interrupt yourself as much- if not more- than we interrupt you.” You add, because, why let Matt and Karen have all the fun?

Foggy gives you his best ‘are you serious’ face, which he has been able to perfect thanks to many years of dealing with Matt. “True as that may be, I’m  _ trying _ to be sappy here and no one is letting me.”

“I’m sorry Fog. We’ll be quiet.” Matt tells him.

“Thank you. So, I love my family and dinner was amazing. But coming here and spending the evening with you guys is more than I ever thought I’d have. If someone told me back a theater camp that I’d have not one,” He looks at Matt. “But three” he turns to you and Karen. “Friends as great as you, I don’t know. You guys are great. I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

“Aww, Foggy, we love you too.” You tell him, another silence following.

“Oh come on, anyone else? I thought I was getting the ball rolling.”

It takes a second, but Matt eventually clears his throat. “I uh, it’s hard to talk about my past without sounding like a downer, so I won’t get into it. I’ll just say that on the days when I’ve hit rock bottom, all of you are the reason I get up in the morning.”

Karen nods. “I’ll drink to that.”

“To friends.” Foggy states, raising his glass. “And the turkey god.”

“To the turkey god!” Everyone echoes, leaning in to clink their glasses.


End file.
